


i wanna get used by you

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Kamen Rider Ex-Aid
Genre: Face Slapping, M/M, Mild Blood, Post-Canon, Revenge, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 11:11:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14975933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: Kiriya does not expect Hiiro to show up at his apartment in the middle of the night with such a strange request.





	i wanna get used by you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MageMew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageMew/gifts).



“I need you to hit me,” Kagami Hiiro tells him the moment the apartment door opens.

Now, Kujo Kiriya has had some strange requests and offers thrown his way during the duration of his life— And whatever this is now, his second life he supposes. Most of the weirder ones have come from Emu, sure, but Kiriya had taken it mostly in stride and in the end, everything worked out as well as could be expected given the circumstances. It had all been pleasurable as long as Kiriya was honest with himself about whether or not he could go through with each request, turning down a few of the more sordid ones that pushed his boundaries.

This? Is well within his boundaries. Maybe, just once or twice especially after waking up to find Hiiro on the wrong side of the fight, Kiriya wanted to hit him. Maybe he wanted to knock Hiiro around a little when he saw how much the betrayal hurt Emu— And it isn’t like Kiriya has feelings for the kid but he’s a little protective considering just how much of Emu’s world had been left in splinters even after they managed to get (almost) everyone back.

Maybe part of him has always wanted to bruise Hiiro a little, bloody him a little, to pay him back for just how damned difficult he always has to make things for everyone else. Too much baggage, too much pampering from a father who sees only the best in him and none of the glaring and obvious flaws, too much resistance to ever admitting the truth of his problems, going for the easy excuses instead of anything that might fix how he is right now.

Still, Kiriya doesn’t expect Hiiro to turn up at his apartment— Kiriya has never told him the address, not keen on having him around in a casual way— and ask to be hit.

“Excuse me?” He leans against the doorway, glancing at the clock on his stove, just visible through the doorway of his kitchen. Fifteen past two in the morning. What is Hiiro doing here?

Hiiro pushes his way inside, knocks Kiriya away from the doorway and turns to him, and it isn’t often that Hiiro pulls down the mask he wears so efficiently to let others see his true emotions. But there is no hiding tonight, all strain and uncertainty and hesitation wrapped up in need and desire and maybe something a little darker, too. Kiriya wets his lips, accepting the invasion of his personal space, and closes the apartment door.

“You just came into my home without asking,” he says softly.

There must be something in his tone because Hiiro  _ flinches, _ like Kiriya has already tried to smack him. “I know. I apologize, but… But I can’t ask this of anyone else.”

“Oh?” Kiriya brushes past Hiiro to drop down in a chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. Not like he was going to sleep much tonight, anyway; he might as well amuse himself with this. “You’re gonna have to be a little more direct. What are you asking me to do?”

“I’m… I’m asking you to hit me,” Hiiro says again.

Kiriya rolls the idea around in his head, the thought of his hand— opened or closed, he isn’t sure— meeting the soft expanse of Hiiro’s cheek. “Why me? Why not Emu? Or Hanaya?”

“I feel like I’ve asked too much of Emu.” Hiiro’s voice drops an octave or two at this confession and Kiriya hums softly, nodding his head in agreement. That much he can agree with because he knows better than anyone just how much Emu has lost, has entertained a late night call or two since the final battle with Dan Masamune, where Emu watched the other half of his soul deteriorate to nothingness in front of him. “Taiga… I won’t ask this of him. Not this.”

That thought is an interesting one, but Kiriya chooses not to pick at it. “What am I hitting you for?”

“I need a reason?” Hiiro’s voice edges toward something more like hysteria, and Kiriya wonders briefly how long he’s been holding back on this desire— this  _ need _ — and how close he is to splitting at the seams if he doesn’t get what he needs. “Why do I need a reason?”

“I don’t think you need a reason, Kagami. I think you have one, though, and that’s what I’m asking about. I want to know why you want me to hit you.” Kiriya feels like he shouldn’t have to clarify this part, not to someone so obviously intelligent, and yet here they are.

Hiiro runs his hands through his hair, tousling it horribly, and Kiriya can see the flush crawling up his cheeks, the way he pulls his lower lip between his teeth and chews on it. “I’ve… I did horrible things and I— I betrayed all of you and I never faced true repercussions for that.”

“Is that all?” Kiriya asks softly.

“N-No.” Hiiro’s fingers fumble with the cuffs of his shirt, yanking the buttons there; it must feel suffocatingly hot and Kiriya wonders why he didn’t wear something more casual than his normal hospital attire sans the white coat. “I just— I want you to. I like…”

He cuts himself off but Kiriya can finish it for him just the same. “You like the pain.”

Making assumptions about what someone likes in bed is a quick way to prove you only care about what you want, or what you want to see in another person, something Kiriya knows better than most of CR, he’s willing to bet. Not that any of them are inexperienced virgins but there comes a different knowledge, a different experience when you dedicate yourself to learning what someone likes so you can take them apart with it. Just the same, Kiriya thought he might have picked up on a certain submissive quality in Hiiro if only in the way his behavior changed when he was praised, or how he expected to be punished when he failed.

He might have been searching for such guidance without knowing why until recently.

“I do.” Hiiro gulps in air and his face is redder now, flushed in embarrassment, and he pulls at the knot of his tie hard, trying to get it away from his skin, voice edging closer and closer toward an actual yell. “I do! I really do and maybe that’s wrong but I just want it and I—”

Kiriya only needs two solid strides to close the distance between them and Hiiro looks startled enough that he focuses on Kiriya, and not the hand that comes toward him. Open-handed, flat-palmed, Kiriya smacks him hard enough to snap his head to the side, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing through the silent living room. Hiiro’s voice dies in his throat around a small whimper and Kiriya can see a red handprint forming on his cheek. Maybe a little too hard, then; his palm even stings a little from it.

He might have snagged Hiiro’s lip a little; when Hiiro turns his head slowly to look at him, there’s blood welling up on his bottom lip, turning the soft pink of his mouth a deeper red. Kiriya grips his chin, smearing the blood with his thumb like crude lipstick.

“Better?” he asks, sighing when Hiiro only blinks wide doe brown eyes at him. “ _ Kagami. _ ”

“B-better,” Hiiro manages to stutter out, and the relief that bleeds into his muscles is palpable. “You don’t know how much I needed that.”

Kiriya does, is the thing. He pushes his thumb into Hiiro’s mouth, unsurprised when Hiiro laps at it obediently, his tongue soft and warm and wet against Kiriya’s skin. “You just need the one hit? ‘Cause believe me when I say I can dole out a few more. Or do you want something more than a few hits? Rough sex? Bet Hanaya isn’t interested in that kind of thing.”

When Hiiro shakes his head, Kiriya pulls his hand away from Hiiro’s mouth so he can speak properly. “Taiga’s very… Gentle, and I appreciate it. I wouldn’t… Wouldn’t want him to hurt me.”

“And you’d feel guilty asking Emu even though you know he’d do it.” Kiriya watches Hiiro’s eyes widen slightly and wonders if Hiiro is just oblivious enough to have missed all of the cues Emu has ever thrown out. “I mean, I’m not adverse to it. Anything you aren’t a fan of?”

“Nothing overly violent. A little blood… Is fine.” Hiiro touches his lip, looks at the red on his fingers and swallows hard enough that Kiriya hears his throat click. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much for me to handle, I can at least do that much. What do you want in return?”   


Kiriya pretends to think about it. “If you want rough sex, Kagami, then I’m gonna get something out of the deal one way or another as long as I get off. You good with that?”

“It seems fair to me.” Hiiro sucks his lip between his teeth, most likely trying to soothe whatever pain is there though Kiriya is confident it can’t be more than a slight sting. “If… If you’d like, I can use my mouth on you. Taiga might have implied it’s good for that purpose.”

Hearing a guy talk about his boyfriend and most certainly the man he might end up marrying one day would have killed Kiriya’s boner any other day of the week but now he just pops the fly on his jeans, pulling a handful of Hawaiian print up away from his waist so it doesn’t get in the way of the view he’s about to get. He’s a little hard at the thought of Hiiro’s mouth on him, but he’ll have to make Hiiro work for the rest.

“On your knees then, pretty boy,” he says, wincing when Hiiro drops down hard enough that Kiriya swears he can feel it in his own joints. “Christ, watch what you’re doing.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Hiiro pulls Kiriya’s jeans down to his knees, blinks a few times at the fact there’s no underwear beneath, and gives himself a little shake. “Of course you’re—”

“Yeah, yeah, I freeball it.” Kiriya slides a hand into Hiiro’s hair, curling his fingers in the soft hair— he must take care of it— and yanks Hiiro’s head back hard, hard enough that he winces just a little. Hiiro makes a strangled noise up at him but goes slack and soft under his grip just the same. “You’re gonna have to get me hard and believe me when I say I’m big enough to make you choke if you don’t pay attention to what you’re doing. Keep that in mind.”

Hiiro wets his lips and looks up at Kiriya, his eyes soft. “That’s fine. I don’t mind choking.”

Hiiro has a nice mouth, all things considered. Plus lips, soft and pink, the exact kind that Kiriya would want to cushion his dick if he could choose himself. Pair them with those big brown eyes and it’s a good look. It’s even better when Hiiro’s cheeks are pink, his eyes already glossy, no doubt pricked with tears from the rough way Kiriya is handling him— Not that he’s complained about any of it. Kiriya didn’t expect him to, after all. No matter what Hiiro has been trying to tell himself, he wants this. He  _ needs _ this, which is why he came all the way here in the middle of the night to get it.

The minute he releases Hiiro’s hair, the younger man shuffles forward on his knees, wrapping a hand around Kiriya’s cock. His hands are soft, which makes sense even with the amount of fighting the lot of them have done; he takes care of them for his surgeries, the career he is so proud of. He’s shy at first, his hand quivering a little before he tightens his grip and jerks Kiriya off slow and smooth and easy.

“That a boy.” Kiriya closes his eyes so he can focus on the sensation of Hiiro’s fingers wrapped around him, feeling the pre-come dribbling from the tip of his cock, slicking the way and decreasing the friction further. “Get me hard and then you can suck me off.”

As soon as his cock rises to full harness, Hiiro’s lush mouth is there to take him down, tongue smoothing over the tip and wrenching a little gasp from Kiriya’s throat. He opens his eyes so he can watch this, watch Hiiro lick his cock like it’s whipped cream off of the end of a fork, the remnants of some sweet dessert. His eyes are lidded and he lets out a little moan before wrapping his lips around just the tip, sucking it into his mouth.

Kiriya lets him take his time, watching Hiiro work him down slow and easy, tongue curling around him, saliva smeared across his hot skin to make it easier on both of them. Kiriya isn’t as eager to let himself get hurt, at least not on the same level Hiiro is on, so he appreciates the thought. But the minute Hiiro’s nose brushes against his pubic hair, Kiriya is done being gentle.

He curls a hand in Hiiro’s hair and jerks, and Hiiro’s eyes fly wide open, darting up to Kiriya’s face. “Don’t look so surprised, Kagami. I told you I was gonna give you what you wanted, right? And you don’t want it to be easy, do you? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

Hiiro blinks twice immediately.

“Then if you need to stop, you can grab my wrist and I’ll let you go. Until then, you better be good at breathing through your nose because I’m not gonna let you off of me. Got it?” Kiriya waits for Hiiro to blink before he pulls his cock out, slow and easy, before slamming it back in.

Hiiro chokes around him, hands seizing Kiriya by the hips, no doubt needing some kind of leverage to keep himself steady. That’s fine; Kiriya can fuck his mouth just as easily with Hiiro clinging to him like some kind of anchor, his hips working against Hiiro’s face, thrusting into the plush wet heat of his perfect pink mouth over and over again. He would have thought Hiiro wasn’t enjoying himself at all except for the quiet moans that vibrate around Kiriya’s cock, the way Hiiro’s eyes fall shut at the harsh treatment.

Kiriya keeps his hand tangled in Hiiro’s hair, the dark strands pulled taut over his fingers, yanking hard enough that he knows he risks ripping some out at the root. So be it. He holds Hiiro’s face right where he wants it, concentrates on the way Hiiro’s throat feels around him, the way he desperately curls his tongue around Kiriya as best he can.

When he shoves Hiiro off of him, the young surgeon looks stunned, his lips bruised red, panting harshly, his eyes wider than Kiriya has ever seen them. Kiriya only lets him sit on the floor for a moment before he pulls him up on his knees, dragging him across the carpet, ignoring Hiiro’s weak protests before he tosses him at the chair Kiriya was just sitting in.

“Hands on the seat,” he says, reaching around for Hiiro’s belt, unbuckling it and yanking his pants down around his ankles. He bursts out laughing when he finds nothing beneath, the sound maybe crueler than he intends for it to be. “Seriously, Kagami? You were all blushing virgin on me because I don’t wear underwear, and you aren’t wearing any either?”

“I was surprised!” Hiiro squeaks out at him, struggling to pull himself up to his feet.

Kiriya leaves him to situate himself so he can retrieve lube from the bedroom, leaving out a condom because it isn’t like Bugsters can pass on any kind of diseases to humans anyway. By the time he gets back, Hiiro has both hands braced on the seat, his arms already quivering from the effort, legs spread invitingly. His thighs are spread just enough for Kiriya to see how embarrassingly hard he is just from sucking cock and being manhandled a little.

If Hiiro is this responsive to something so small, he must have been all but starving for this.

“How rough do you want it?” Kiriya asks, coming to stand behind him. He hadn’t noticed based on the way Hiiro’s clothing fits, but the constant stream of cake has softened him in places. Kiriya smacks his ass just because he can, because it’s in reach and because it looks soft and inviting. “I’m leaving it to you to set the pace and tell me what you want from this.”

Hiiro pants harshly, struggling to speak around his labored breathing. “Just… Just put it in me. I don’t need to be stretched, it’s not… I can stand that. K-Kujo—”

“Understood.” Kiriya uncaps the lube, squeezes some out into his hand before slicking his cock with it. The substance is cool, but not cold enough to bring discomfort. “Brace yourself.”

He can see the tension in Hiiro’s shoulders as he grips the cushion. Kiriya caps the lube, tosses it on the floor— he can pick it up later, and it isn’t going to spill or anything— before setting his hands on Hiiro’s hips, shifting his position just a little. When he’s satisfied he has Hiiro right where he wants him, he grips himself by the shaft, presses the head against Hiiro’s hole, and pushes past the ring of muscle until it opens around him, swallowing greedily.

“F-fuck.” The word drips from Hiiro’s lips and Kiriya snickers a little at such a sound coming from such an intelligent mouth. “Just don’t stop, just put it all in, just…”

He trails off, slumping forward while Kiriya steadily works himself in deeper and deeper, watching inch after inch slide in. Hiiro is tight, tighter than even Kiriya expects him to be, and he can’t resist making a remark about that. “So does Hanaya not fuck you enough or what?”

Hiiro whines pitifully at his words and Kiriya cackles, squeezing Hiiro’s hips to make sure he has a tight hold on him, withdrawing slowly just to thrust back in. Hiiro is almost too tight, almost tight enough that it might hurt a little, but it isn’t as bad as Kiriya expects it to be and he grits his teeth through the initial discomfort until Hiiro properly opens up for him. The minute it doesn’t hurt him to go slow anymore, he decides it’s time to amp up the pace.

After all, Hiiro said he wanted it to hurt.

Kiriya fucks Hiiro fast and hard, not needing to worry about his stamina, how much it might take out of him to thrust deep and with everything he has. He doesn’t get tired anymore, doesn’t need the rest, doesn’t need to slow down for anyone or anything. Hiiro keens, high-pitched and pathetic beneath him, and Kiriya groans at the sound. It’s proof he’s doing a damn good job.

He digs his nails into Hiiro’s skin, the soft flesh giving way under his nails until he rakes red lines across Hiiro’s skin. It probably stings but he doesn’t care, folding his hands over the marks, squeezing Hiiro’s hips tight as he pumps in and out of him. Hiiro’s arms shake violently until they give out beneath him, his face thumping down on the cushion, but Kiriya doesn’t give him a chance to straighten up, not when this position only pushes his ass higher in the air.

“Hurt good enough for you, Kagami?” Kiriya reaches down, tangling his fingers in Hiiro’s hair so he can hold him down, grinding his cheek against the upholstery. “Tell me. Does it  _ hurt _ enough?”

Hiiro can’t answer him, just gasps and sutters, his eyes wet, the occasional tear slipping down his cheek. His mouth hangs open, his tongue lolling out a little, drool leaving a spot on the cushion; Kiriya cuffs him on the ass, not thrilled at the idea he’s going to have to clean that at some point. Hiiro whines at him and pushes back against him, so that the thrust Kiriya gives him shoves Hiiro down into the cushion harder, prompting a little cry. But he doesn’t ask Kiriya to stop, even though his knees are shaking now, too, his thighs quaking.

Kiriya doesn’t touch him. He doesn’t have to, and he wouldn’t even if Hiiro asked him to do it, even if he got down on his knees and begged. Instead, he fucks Hiiro until his own orgasm washes over him, surprised when Hiiro lets out a little moan from his position. Kiriya leans back just enough to see semen dripping onto his carpet and snorts. Hiiro’s making a mess out of everything, isn’t he? Kiriya wouldn’t have pegged him as the messy type.

He pulls out of him, not worrying about being gentle, so he can retrieve a dish towel from the kitchen, wetting it down and wiping his cock off. There’s a slight quiver in his knees from the residual of his orgasm that makes walking interesting, but he can still do it. The lubricant goes on the side table for now and he pulls Hiiro off of the chair, pushing him in the general direction of the door so he can wipe the wet spot on the chair and on the carpet.

“That’s all?” Hiiro sounds a little shocky. Maybe he didn’t expect that.

Kiriya debates about it. He really does. But when he turns around, he delivers another slap to Hiiro’s face, watching his head snap to the side again. But it has the desired effect; when Hiiro looks at him, his eyes are focused again. “Aftercare ain’t my thing, sweetheart, at least not with you. Go get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom and be on your way. You got what you want.”

“Did you—?” Hiiro cuts himself off and clears his throat, fingers moving toward the loosened knot of his tie to right it. It’s a small thing, Kiriya thinks, but it looks like it centers him somewhat. “Did you get something from me as well, Dr. Kujo?”

The tone of voice makes Kiriya chuckle and he flexes his palm, the sting still there from the slap. “Yeah, I got something pretty good out of the deal. Go home before Hanaya worries.”

Hiiro lets himself out and Kiriya locks up the apartment, head turning at the sound of his cell phone vibrating back in his bedroom. Instead of walking there, he lets his Bugster abilities shine through so he can teleport there, recognizing Emu’s name on the screen and picking it up to answer.

_ “Kiriya?” _ Emu’s voice is bright on the other end of the phone; he and Parado must be pulling an all-nighter playing video games again.  _ “I hate to bother you, but we need a referee.” _

Kiriya hums, rubbing the back of his neck, working the kinks out of it. “Okay, Emu. I’ll be there.”

He flexes his hand again. The reddened flesh will be back to normal by morning, but just for now, Kiriya is satisfied with tonight.


End file.
